Silence
by Psyste
Summary: The story of Aegor "Bittersteel" Rivers and his relationship with his half brother Brynden "Bloodraven" Rivers.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer – If you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Chapter 1

Mother was crying again. Aegor was used to this sight over the past few years and the empty bottles that lay barren by her chair told him she was probably drunk. It was his seventh nameday yet she hadn't paid him any attention or even given him a present. His uncle, Lord Bracken, had given Aegor a fantastic imitation sword and the castle maester had given him a book on the Targaryen conquest of Westeros but nothing from his mother.

She didn't seem to smile anymore, not since his father had stopped visiting. She had told Aegor that he was born in the Red Keep in Kings Landing, the capital of Westeros, which was where they lived for the first year of his life. She never told him why they now lived at Stone Hedge with his uncle. She also never told him why his father stopped visiting. He remembered his father's booming voice, the shiny golden crown he always wore and how he used to pick up Aegor in his big arms and make him laugh. But he had not seen his father in 3 years and, whilst he missed him a little, his mother seemed devastated by his continued absence. Now she just drank and muttered words like "disgrace", "bastard" and "whore".

Aegor had asked the maester questions about his father and why he left him and his mother but never received any answers. However he knew it was something to do with the ghost boy.

He had only seen him once, when his uncle and mother took him to Kings Landing to attend the funeral of the Aemon the Dragonknight, the Legendary Kingsguard. He had been excited to go to the capital. He hopes he might see his father but he didn't. He thought he saw him sat on a large iron chair but soon realised that he was too fat to be his father, even if he wore a crown just like him.

Whilst at the funeral he caught his mother glaring menacing at a dark haired woman wearing a long gown that had what looked like a flock of ravens surrounding a tree embroidered on the back. He had never seen his mother filled with such hate.

However it was boy that this women held hands with that took Aegor's attention. He was smaller than him and looked younger but he was unlike anyone Aegor had ever seen before. His skin was pale as milk, he had long hair whiter than snow and a strange red patch on his cheek. He looked like one of the spectres the maester told him about in his bedtime stories when Aegor demanded a scary story. Aegor hoped he would be allowed to play with the other children after the funeral and that the ghost boy would be there so he could talk to him.

As if he knew Aegor was looking at him, the boy suddenly turned and looked directly at him. Aegor gripped his mother's skirt tightly as he saw the bright red eyes of the ghost boy. They were the colour of blood. They appeared to be looking through him, directly into his soul. Aegor was a brave boy and he would be a brave warrior when he grew up, his Uncle told him, but he was scared of the ghost boy. He didn't want to play with him or talk to him anymore, he just wanted him to go away and never come back.

Later when he rode in the litter with his mother back to Stone Hedge he asked about the ghost boy. His mother, very drunk by this point, had rambled about the boy and his "whore mother" being the reason why Aegor's father never visited anymore.

Aegor decided then he didn't like the ghost boy. He didn't want to duel and kill him though, he just never wanted to see him again.

* * *

Aegor paced the corridor outside the Kings bedchambers. He was surrounded by the kingsguard, gold cloaks and the kings children, both natural and bastard. The king had summoned all his royal children as he lay on his deathbed. It would not be long now and then the weakling Daeron would inherit the throne. Aegor looked at him, sat there with his head in a book, and shook his head. He was a weakling who spent his time consorting with maesters, prissy library dwellers and the Dornish cowards his wife brought to court. The true king was Daemon and Aegor turned to face him.

He was sat opposite Daeron and he held Blackfyre in his hands, twirling it skilfully in his strong hands. The king knew who the true heir was and he gave Daemon the sword of kings to signify that. He was the most skilled warrior in all the known world, but he was also intelligent, noble and beloved by all. Even his half sister Daenerys stared at him lovingly now, ignoring her true blood brother Daeron as if he was not here. Not that Daeron would know what to do with a woman. Aegor doubted if Daeron had ever fully pleasured his Dornish wife. After all their eldest son Baelor had the look of a Dornishman and the court was full of them, it would be easy for her to take a lover with Daeron spending every night with his head in parchment.

Sat further down the corridor was Shiera Shestar, his half sister and another of the Kings royal bastards. Everytime he saw her she took his breath away. He could think of no other woman in the seven kingdoms more beautiful and he desired her more than anything. She was courteous and flirted with him but she did with everyone and it drove him wild with jealousy. He hoped that if Daemon ever took the throne he would arrange the marriage between them. Daemon knew Aegor's feelings towards her, he doubted that Daeron even knew she was a woman.

At the far end of the corridor, leaning on the wall was Bloodraven. The ghost boy from his youth, his half brother, didn't scare him anymore. His name was Brynden but he encouraged people to use Bloodraven. Aegor always used Bloodraven, if he used anything else then it would let him think that he intimidated Aegor and he certainly didn't. There was tales whispered by the lowborn in Kings Landing of Bloodraven being a sorcerer and practicing blood magic and the dark arts. This was all nonsense, again spread by Bloodraven to increase fear of him.

Aegor knew the truth. Bloodraven was a mortal man - intelligent and skilled with a blade and bow yes - but a man. Aegor felt confident he could kill Bloodraven in combat, he was no Daemon. Bloodraven was better with a bow, Aegor was better with a blade.

Aegor didn't fear him, nor was intimidated by him yet Bloodraven still bothered him and played on his mind. He couldn't put his finger on it for a long time but eventually he knew what it was.

Bloodraven never spoke to Aegor. Not that he was a loud character but he never said a single word to Aegor for as long as he could remember. He just stared with those deep red eyes, like he was daring Aegor to challenge him. Bloodraven was mocking him without saying a word, trying to provoke him into rash actions.

Even now, as they waited for their father to die, he stared at Aegor through those dead red eyes. He neither smiled nor frowned, his face was emotionless but his gaze didn't falter. His eyes were fixed on Aegor. Part of Aegor wanted to run over to Bloodraven and demand he speak, just to see if he would and what he would say. "But that would be letting him win." Aegor thought, so he continued to return his stare.

His thoughts were interrupted by the door to the Kings chambers opening and the Hand of the King, Lord Butterwell, exiting. He looked solemn but spoke clearly "The king is dead. His last proclamation affects the line of succession and concerns all of his royal children...


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer – If you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Chapter 2

Aegor wandered the halls of the Red Keep, drunker than he had ever been in his entire existence. It was the twentieth nameday of Ser Quentyn Ball, known as Fireball to his friends due to his wild fighting style, and the celebrations had gone on long into the night. Fireball was master-at-arms at Kings Landing and therefore King Daeron had permitted the celebration feast could take place in the Queens Ballroom.

Aegor sniggered to himself at the memory of the King drinking ale that night. When a drunken Fireball handed him the glass, the King looked pensive and shifted nervously in his seat. He nursed the drink all night, just about managing to finish before he excused himself for the evening. Aegor had queried with Fireball why he even bothered trying to include the King in the festivities by giving him the drink.

"He's alright the King," Fireball had responded in a slurred voice "he will fulfil his fathers promise to me and raise me to the Kingsguard when Ser Costayne finally passes on. By the Seven I'm sure of it."

Aegor leaned on a wall and tried to get his bearings. Since being legitimised by his father he had spent more time and Kings Landing and had advised the small council on matters of war and arms. He knew the Keep well and was sure he was heading the right way, even in his current state. He only had one destination in mind and he wanted to get there quickly before his courage failed him or the drink sent him to sleep.

He stumbled around the corridors for a further 10 minutes till he found the door. Aegor steadied himself and tried to tidy his dark hair, using a nearby window as a mirror.

"Here goes." he thought and banged the door with his clenched fist. His heart was pounding but he felt sure of himself and what he was doing.

She was quick in answering. "Hello brother. The hour is late and you knock on my door. Why?"

Shiera looked beautiful. She wore only a clear silk nightgown and her hair followed freely over her delicate shoulders. Her eyes, one a bright blue, the other a subtle green, observed him and seemed to undress him.

Aegor composed himself. "I want you tonight sister, I need you tonight."

Aegor knew Shiera took different lovers from court, he had heard the gossip, so he thought a direct approach was best. Besides he had seen her look at him - she wanted him like he wanted her, he was sure of it.

Shiera abruptly responded "Aegor you are drunk. You need sleep. Now is not the time."

She went to close the door but Aegor blocked it with his foot. This response was not expected and he was puzzled. Before she could say anything he pushed past her and entered the bedroom.

He had never been in her chambers before. The room smelt of flowers and perfume, like a fresh meadow in the Reach. The room was coloured a light purple, with an ornamental dragon made of glass decorating the wall and seemingly spreading the meagre candle light further around the room than possible.

Aegor smiled as he surveyed the room until his eyes were drawn by a dark shroud, thrown carelessly in the corner of the room. Aegor recognised it immediately and turned to Shiera.

"Where is he!" he demanded.

Before she could answer the privy door opened and he emerged. He was tying his breeches, the only garment he was wearing, without a care. He caught sight of Aegor with those blood red eyes and merely nodded before sitting down on the bed, which Aegor now noticed was dishevelled certainly as a result of their coupling.

Aegor was stunned. In all the rumours and tales that circulated court, Bloodraven had never been mentioned as one of the lovers of Shiera.

"What's the meaning of this?" Aegor stuttered, unsure what to say or do.

Bloodraven shrugged and poured himself a cup of wine from the jug on the bedside table. Shiera approached Aegor and put her hand on his arm. He tried to stop it shaking but he felt that she noticed.

"Dearest Aegor," she began, "our brother has visited my chambers on many occasion. There is no meaning to it, beyond the carnal. Or am I mistaken Lord Bloodraven?"

She flashed a golden smile at Bloodraven, which he returned in kind. It was some private joke between them and Aegor fumed at their obvious closeness and his distance from her.

He wanted to charge Bloodraven and use a candle stick, a chair or even just his fists to end his existence. No-one could stop him and then he could take her as well. As if he knew what Aegor was thinking, Bloodraven casually lifted Dark Sister into sight and examined it's sharp edge, staring down it intently so the line of sight led straight to Aegor. The brilliant sword, wielded by Visenya during Aegons conquest, was gifted to Bloodraven by King Daeron on his sixtieth nameday, a decision that only inflamed Aegor's hatred of both King Daeron and his half brother. Aegor had discussed this gift with Daemon at the time.

"Who gives him the right brother?" Aegor had questioned.

"He is the King, he has the right just as our father did when he gave me Blackfyre."

"That was a warrior bestowing a great sword to another great warrior. Besides we both know what Father intended by giving you Blackfyre Daemon."

Daemon face had darkened. "That talk is treasonous brother, you would do well to not repeat it. I know Daeron is no warrior but he is a good man and a good king." There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Besides our father was no warrior either, the only weapon he ever used was his meat sword!" Daemon laughed and lightened the mood straight away. Aegor remembered how skilled Daemon was in making both men and women like him. He was sure Daemon would have handled this situation better than Aegor had done.

He observed Bloodraven sat on the bed and decided enough was enough. He couldn't attack him physically but he would make him talk.

"Nothing to say brother?" Aegor started.

Silence

"Are you ill? Does your tongue not work? Do you have nothing to say to me?"

Still silence

"Is it your whore mother? Did she not teach you to talk? Was she too busy sucking cock to teach you to talk?"

Bloodraven's lip curved slightly but the rest of his face didn't move. Still he didn't speak.

"Talk damn you. Say something. SAY SOMETHING!"

Still Bloodraven just stared at Aegor, his eyes not moving from his. Aegor went to move towards the bed but Shiera moved to block his path.

"Aegor that is enough. Leave now or I'll be forced to call the gold cloaks." she ordered him.

By now Aegor's fury was burning across all his body and nothing would stop him.

"Call for them," he raged, "it'll just be more dead men in your chambers. More corpses to go with his white one."

Shiera put her hands to his face and turned his gaze away from Bloodraven and into her eyes. As if by sorcery Aegor's rage subsided straight away.

She spoke softly, as if she was singing a child to sleep. "What has happened to you Aegor? When I look in your eyes I still see that strength, like steel. But now it is tempered with something rotten, something bitter."

His spirit destroyed and heart broken, Aegor turned and left the room. He didn't look at either of them, he couldn't summon the strength. He wanted the empty corridor to swallow him whole and end the pain that was all consuming.

Before the door to her chambers closed he thought he finally heard him speak a solitary word.

"Bittersteel."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer – If you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Chapter 3

"Keep pushing forward men, kill these sons of whores, fight for the true king of Westeros!" Aegor roared.

The men growled their approval and continued to attack the phalanx wall of Maekar and his men. They were holding firm but Aegor was sure they could not keep his force at bay forever. Once Aegor had won the right he could bring his forces to meet the vanguard of Daemon, who had already obliterated Daeron's vanguard, led by Lord Arryn. He looked across the battlefield and could see Daemon duelling a Kingsguard. Judging by the sparks flying from both swords as they fought, Aegor guessed it was Gwayne Corbray as he was the only Kingsguard to wield a Valyrian steel sword.

Aegor continued to press forward against the shields of Maekar's men. He had his men rotating in their attacks, allowing each time for brief recovery and giving opportunity for longer run ups to charge at the enemy in an effort to break their line. Aegor was included in the rotation, he would have it no other way. Currently he was wielding his longhandle battleaxe and he crashed it with the force of a mammoth against the bronze shield in front of him. The man stumbled backwards, leaving the safety of his shield and Aegor took the opportunity to cleave the man in two. However before he could step into the gap, another shield appeared to complete the wall.

"My nephew has got his men very well organised." He thought to himself in quiet admiration. He had already instructed his men not to kill Maekar if he yielded. Aegor had always gotten on well with him and he had no desire to kill a fellow Targaryen who was clearly an excellent battle commander and whose only fault was supporting the wrong king.

Aegor rotated out of the attack and quickly grabbed a squire.

"I need you to go to the left of the field and bring back a report on the progress of Robb Reyne and his men against my nephew Baelor.' He panted, slowly catching his breath following the fury of his attacks.

"As you command Bittersteel." replied the squire, a young man in his twenties, who immediately sprinted off.

Since that night in the Red Keep, Aegor had used the name Bittersteel in public, though he told no-one of its origin. Some thought he was trying to match Bloodraven though jealously, but Aegor knew that was false. He used Bittersteel because he wanted Bloodraven to know he heard him speak and that it did not bother him what he thought of him. He would turn the insult and heartbreak of that night into his name and make it his strength.

Aegor had not seen Bloodraven on the battlefield but scouts had reported sighting him in the camp of King Daeron prior to battle. He hoped their paths would cross. Word had reached Daemon of Bloodraven's insistence in the small council of destroying Daemon and his followers by any means necessary. He had pushed for war rather than negotiation and therefore Daemon commanded he be shown no mercy on the battlefield. Aegor had prayed to the Seven it would be him to kill Bloodraven for the honour of his King but also for himself.

Aegor quickly rotated back into the main force and continued to attack. After 30 solid minutes of fighting he moved out again to survey the situation. He was concerned that this was becoming a stalemate as his men were not progressing as he had hoped, though Maekar was not making any ground forward either. The casualties on Aegor's side were getting higher though – using spears and longswords between the gaps in the shield wall his men were getting picked off with precision strikes – whilst no-one seemed to be getting slain on his Nephew's side.

Aegor removed his helmet and quickly drank water provided to him before re-adorning his helmet. He didn't want to be picked off by an archer like what happened to Fireball on the eve of battle. His untimely death meant that Robb Reyne was promoted to lead the left flank and this worried Aegor. Whilst Robb was a great swordmen, his ability to command others in the heat of battle was untested and he was up against Baelor Targaryen who was an intelligent and cunning leader. Aegor scouted around for the squire he sent to bring word of how the battle on the left was progressing but he could not see him. Bodies littered the field and the grass had changed colour from a bright green to a dark red. It almost looked like Dornish sand had been poured over the field but of course the colour was entirely due to bloodshed.

Aegor noticed that the sparks had stopped coming from Daemon's position. He feared the worst until he saw Daemon standing over the prone Kingsguard, his white cloak and armour covered in dark red blood. He was gesturing his twin sons to bring his personal banner across to his position. However Daemon was not moving forward as expected and appeared to be comforting the Kingsguard.

"Just slit his throat and move forward." Aegor said to no-one in particular. The momentum of the battle was in their favour, entirely down to the quick progression of Daemon's vanguard, and this needed to be continued before the tide turned against them.

Then he saw Bloodraven. He was climbing a small rock face with his personal guard just behind Maekar's forces. There was no mistaking him – his white hair flowed over his black armour and his personal sigil – a white dragon breathing red fire – was clear to see on the breastplate. Dark Sister was sheathed on his back as was a weirwood bow with a quiver full of arrows. They all climbed at a furious pace and soon reach the flat ridge at the top of the rocks.

Aegor wondered what he was doing. Bloodraven did not have the number of men to attack Aegor's men with any real impact. He was also too far from Aegor, Daemon or any other commander to be able to kill them with an arrow. "What is he up to?" Aegor thought.

On the ridge no man moved apart from Bloodraven who drew an arrow. He quickly took aim at Daemon's banner and fired. Aegor saw one of the twins fall, an arrow piercing his chest.

Aegor gave out an audible gasp of shock. He did not understand this action. "Why would he kill his boy?' he thought racking his brains, "What possible rea-"

It hit Aegor like a warhammer to the chest. He knew what was going to happen and it did right before his eyes.

Seeing his son fall, Daemon ran over to his corpse, ignoring the position of Bloodraven. Before he had time to even touch the body, Bloodraven and his guards unleashed a volley of arrows that crashed down on Daemon that sent him sprawling to the floor. A further volley hit the men that surrounded Daemon, including the other twin who had grabbed Blackfyre from his father's hand but now fell in the grass, grasping at his throat before he stopped moving altogether.

Aegor unleashed a primal roar, something akin to a direwolf. He had to get to Daemon and make sure he wasn't dead. Everything was lost if he was dead. That meant getting past Maekar. He picked up his axe and turned to face his men who were not currently fighting. His strategy was now pointless. "EVERYONE CHARGE!" He shouted at his men before running towards the shield wall and jumping shoulder first into it, knocking his way through. He did not know if he was being followed or if his men had fled but he swung his battleaxe wildly and cut through the men opposing him. He had one thought in mind and that was to get to Daemon.

He cut through the men, many who were unprepared for their shield wall to be breeched so suddenly after such a long period of steady battle. Dismembered body parts and blood flew around Aegor, like the spray of sea against a rock, but he kept pressing forwards. He did not think about the fighting, his only thoughts were to get to Daemon. Once he got to him, he could revive him and they could carry on and win this battle.

Eventually Aegor burst through Maekar's men and he ran onwards to where Daemon had fallen. As he approached he ripped off his helmet and slid on his knees to his King's prone body. It had been pierced by numerous arrows, including three in the chest, one in each arm and one through his left eye that came out the back of his skull. He was long dead.

Aegor knelt by the greatest warrior he had ever known. He was his brother and his King. He died because loved his family and did not want to leave his son's body on the battlefield. Aegor closed his remaining eye, the most beautiful purple colour, and brushed his hair off his face. He took a long look at his brother, a true Targaryen, and knew then he would never meet anyone as honourable and brilliant as him again so long as he lived.

Others who had breached Maekar's line converged on Aegor. Once they saw Daemon was dead the fire went out of many of their eyes. Aegor knew then the battle was over. Word would spread and without their leader the army would not continue to fight. Men would begin to yield and plead for mercy or to take the Black. Without Daemon it was all ruined. He wanted to weep.

But he was not done fighting yet. He saw Bloodraven descending the ridge and a madness went over him. He picked up his axe and charged across to his position.

"BLOODRAVEN!" Aegor screamed as he charged towards him, fire in his eyes. Bloodraven turned to look at him and drew Dark Sister just in time to block a blow aimed at his exposed head.

"Damn you Bloodraven,"Aegor raged whilst he swung repeated strikes at his half brother, "you are a kinslayer and you are damned."

A member of Bloodraven's guard went to fire an arrow at Aegor but a sharp look from Bloodraven stopped him. Aegor continued to attack in wild fury, yet his axe only found the edge of Dark Sister. Bloodraven's face remained focused in a cold concentration as they fought. Aegor repeatedly cursed and shouted at him -

"You have no soul."

"You are no Targaryen."

"Your whore mother burns in hell."

"Coward."

"Freak."

But Bloodraven responded to none of his taunts. His face only displayed an almost serene content look and he was as silent as ever. This only further enraged Aegor who now wielded his battleaxe in a single hand, the rage allowing him to draw further strength from his exhausted body. He swung wild blows that crashed into the Valyrian steel of Dark Sister and reverberated around the battlefield. Bloodraven retaliated with quick thrusts when he could but Aegor managed to avoid them with swift turns of his waist.

The brothers duelled for what seemed an age, each matching blow for blow, strike for strike. The calm precision of Bloodraven was contrasted and deadlocked with the wild fury of Bittersteel. They seemed to be alone on the battlefield, other soldiers from both sides moving around their position and allowing them the room to fight. Both Bittersteel and Bloodraven were clearly identifiable without their helmets, it would have been easy to kill either man with an arrow, but the other soldiers seemed to know this was a personal battle that could not be decided by a third party.

Eventually the duel ended. Aegor swung a horizontal blow but Bloodraven stepped inside the axe blade and cut the long shaft in two, sending the blade flying out of sight and only leaving Aegor holding a small handle. With Aegor now weaponless, Bloodraven landed a punch on his jaw, leaving Aegor seeing black dots, and followed up with a sweeping kick that took his legs out from under him and knocked him on his back. Aegor landed heavy and let out a large groan. The exhaustion finally set in and, even as his vision slowly returned, Aegor was too tired to carry on. His armour suddenly weighed heavy and his legs felt like stone. His warrior instincts were screaming at him to scramble up and find a weapon to defend himself but his energy was spent and he couldn't. He lay there staring at the clouds in the sky and waited for the blade on his neck, which Bloodraven duly provided.

"Up"

Aegor laughed a tired laugh. "So now you can speak." Aegor managed to sit himself up to look at Bloodraven, whose blade followed his neck to the seated position.

"I've always been able to speak but you know that don't you Bittersteel?" he replied, releasing a wry smile at the mention of his nickname.

Aegor smiled back "Of course I did brother and many thanks for providing me with my name."

Bloodraven stopped his brief smile and looked sternly at Aegor. "Any last words?"

Aegor stared into those blood red eyes and knew this would be the only time they would speak. He knew then what he needed to ask him. "Could things have been different between us brother or was it always destined to end with one of us killing the other? I know I've far from blameless in this feud between us and the circumstances of our respective Mother's families definitely did not help this situation, but could we have ever been family?"

For the first time since Aegor had known him Bloodraven seemed unnerved. A sadness washed over his face and his gaze faltered. Aegor could feel the sword against his neck start to quiver slightly. For once Bloodraven's silence did not feel intimidating, it felt full of regret.

He lowered Dark Sister from Aegor's neck and spoke "Brother I am-"

Aegor had gotten the opening he needed. Using the last of his strength he kicked Bloodraven's legs savagely as he began to speak so he fell to the floor. In a swift movement he grabbed a morningstar, discarded on the floor, and swung it at Bloodraven's head. He just managed to avoid the full impact of Aegor's attack by turning his head but one of the spikes caught Bloodraven across his eye. He cried out in pain and put his hand to his face, only to feel the blood pouring out of the socket where his eye had been before. Aegor dropped the Morningstar and pulled himself to his feet slowly until he was stood over Bloodraven. He still held Dark Sister so Aegor stood on the blade with one foot and placed his other on the chest of Bloodraven.

It took Aegor a few seconds to catch his breath before he spoke, the exhaustion flowing through all his body. "You are a kinslaying fool Bloodraven. We could have never been family, Daemon was my family and you killed him. You killed the true king of Westeros and you did it in the most craven way possible. You are going to suffer in all the seven hells and I am going to send you there." He moved his foot to Bloodraven's neck and began to press down hard. His hand moved from his face to grab the ankle of Aegor, finally allowing him to see the hole where his brother's eye used to sit. Bloodraven struggled and thrashed his legs wildly but Aegor was unmoved and continued to choke the life out of him.

Suddenly a loud roar came from behind Aegor. It was so unexpected that Aegor released his foot from Bloodraven's neck and turned to see the cause. He saw that the remains of his right appeared to be getting routed by Dornish Spearmen. Black Byren Flowers ran towards Aegor and grabbed him. "We must flee Bittersteel. Baelor Breakspear has broken the left and is at our rear. The battle is lost."

Aegor shook his head "We cannot retreat. The battle can still be won. If we combine the remains of the vanguard with what is left of the right and left we can fight back."

Bryen Flowers grabbed Aegor and started to drag him away. He was too tired from his battle with Bloodraven to resist. Bryen spoke quickly "There is no-one left. The left are all dead, the vanguard fled when Daemon fell and your right is being crushed as we speak. We must flee, anything else would be certain death." Aegor went to protest but Bryen continued "We need to gather up Daemon's remaining sons and make for the free cities. They'll be executed, even though they are children, so you must go protect them and keep them safe. You are the only family they have left. Plus you can give the eldest this."

Bryen pulled out Blackfyre and handed it to Aegor. It was stained with the blood of all those Daemon had slain today but it still looked as sharp as ever. Bryen looked at the sword and smiled "As long as we have this in our possession the Blackfyre rebellion will never die."

Aegor sheathed it and continued to retreat with Bryen. He turned briefly to look upon where he left Bloodraven. He could see he was being helped to his feet and he stared furiously at Aegor's position. Aegor cursed that he didn't have the strength to quickly finish him when he had the chance but he smiled at the memory of removing the kinslayer's eye. Remembering Daemon's corpse he thought "An eye for an eye." That night as he crossed the narrow sea on a small fishing boat he prayed to the Seven that he would have the chance one day to face Bloodraven again, to be the one to kill him and send his soul to be judged by the Father. However he knew in his heart that it was unlikely he would see his brother again.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclamier - If you recognise it then it belongs to GRRM

Chapter 4

The wind swirled around the tent and the one of the flaps that made the doorway to enter had come loose and rasped against one of the poles holding the entire structure up. Sand bellowed through the various holes and gaps that littered the tent, covering Aegor as he lay there dying.

It all started with a chill he caught somewhere between Myr and Tyrosh. He had refused the maesters help and carried on for three days but when he tried to rise on the fourth day he was violently sick and struggled to move without suffering severe pain across his stomach. This carried on for a full moons turn and eventually when it became obvious to all he would not be recovering he was loaded into a litter on a makeshift bed and he has been dragged round Esso's ever since, following the Golden Company. Now he did not know where he was, he was fast asleep when his men moved him from the litter to this tent – his final resting place.

Aegor always imagined his death would be on the battlefield, surrounded by the corpses of his own men and enemies. He thought he would be able to look the soldier who struck the death blow directly in the eye and thank him for giving him an end fitting for a warrior. Instead he was going to die in bed in a tent, covered in sand and sweat, like a decrepit Dornish coward.

He was grateful however that his men had not abandoned him, as he had done to many before him in the same situation. When he started the Golden Company he had always instilled a sense of loyalty and honour in his men, something not associated with sellsword companies, but he could see now that his words had indeed stuck. It of course helped that many of his men were Blackfyre exiles just like Aegor.

He had already instructed his men what was to be done with him once he finally passed on. His body was to be buried wherever he finally died, apart from his skull which was to be boiled until the flesh was gone and then dipped in gold and put on their company standard.

This request was queried at the time. "Forgive me General Bittersteel," a young squire had asked, "But why would you want this done? Would you rather not be buried whole so your spirit can be one as you meet the Stranger?"

Aegor had smiled, which was a rare sight, and replied "I am certain that one day the Golden Company will cross the Narrow sea to retake the Iron Throne in the name of a true Targaryen ruler. And I wanted to be able to see this with my own eyes but that is not going to happen. However my spirit can be there to see this glorious day and when it does I will finally be at peace. Until that day the Stranger will have to wait for me."

He could feel his heart beginning to slow and the shadows seemed to be moving closer and closer. The winds blowing through the tent were getting slower and Aegor felt he could reach out and grab a single grain of sand, if only he could move an arm.

Aegor's mind began to wander and he thought of the deaths throughout his life. Aegor had seen and caused hundreds of deaths, yet only four remained in his thoughts – his mother's drunken bloated corpse covered in vomit, Fireball head down in a stream with a solitary quarrel protruding through his skull, beautiful incredible Daemon lifeless on Redgrass Field and his only daughter lying in a bed of blood, the babe pale and silent in her arms. It made him feel alone. He always could inspire loyalty but never love. The only four who he ever felt truly loved him - be it motherly, brotherly or unconditional – were all long gone.

He thought of Shiera. He truly did love her and would have been a loyal and kind husband, if only she would have looked at him more than a half- brother. "Maybe if I had been more gallant or romantic she could have felt differently," He thought to himself, "I could have wrote her a poem, bought her fine lace, sung her a song. I could have just told her….". Aegor hoped she did not think ill of him and knew that he did not think anything bad of her. Mainly he just hoped she found happiness in her life and a husband who deserved her.

His thoughts then moved to his nemesis. "Bloodraven" He said weakly.

He still hated his half brother with the same fury as when he was a younger man. Time had not healed any wounds. Aegor had always covertly communicated with spies from Westeros and he had always kept informed of Bloodraven's activities – his ascension to Hand of King Aerys, his capture of Daemon Blackfyre II at Whitewalls, his allowance of the murder of Aegor's cousin the Brute of Bracken by the Blackwoods, his burning of the dead during the great spring sickness, his imprisonment on ridiculous charges by Maekar (Aegor always smiled at this. "I always said I liked my nephew Maekar" he would think) and his subsequent banishmen to the Night Watch when he was soon made Lord Commander.

As there were lots of Blackfyre rebels on the wall Aegor had debated finding a way of contacting one to assassinate Bloodraven but before he had chance, word reached Aegor that Bloodraven had gone missing beyond the wall and was presumed dead. "I hope he died cold and alone" he had thought at the time. That thought had not changed.

Sometimes Aegor wondered what Bloodraven would have said to him on Redgrass Field if he hadn't knocked him to the floor. That was the only time he ever saw his calm demeanour slip. Most of all he wondered why he never spoke to Aegor – was it shyness misinterpreted, arrogance, fear or was he playing his games?

Aegor knew this hate had defined his life and made him the person he was, the good and bad. He wondered what man he would have been if he would have never had Bloodraven in his life and there had only been Daemon.

The pain that had been coursing through his body for so long seemed to be gone now and he felt as light as snow. He closed his eyes and he felt relieved. There was nothing now.

Silence


End file.
